The House of Hades
by vernus
Summary: Percy and Annabeth are trapped in the depths of the Underworld, while the rest of the seven head back to camp to break up the fight. Mainly Jason/Hazel/Frank narration, Percabeth prologue. I may include Percy/Annabeth POVs later.
1. a very hard fall

_prologue_

In darkness, not all was invisible. Not all was silent. Contrary, shadows ghosted past and sounds ripped through the air — tortured cries, souls being gouged from their roots, heavy sighs, final, hopeless breaths. The stillness of it all was the most painful. Quiet, but sucking, like a vacuum, the life force and spirit, the vitality and energy. The cold hit like a thousand knives, whittling straight to the bone, drying out all warmth.

It didn't feel like falling. There was no sense of panic, or adrenaline. It was pure oppression. There was no sickening lurch of gravity in the pits of the stomach. There was just hollowness.

There was no way to describe the sensation of having your life force ripped from its foundations. It was the cruelest, sickest kind of pain. Worse than suffocating. Worse than holding up the sky. A million times worse than drowning in the cursed water at the nymphaeum, back in Rome, miles above them on the surface — where the Sun was. (The sky, the greenery, the land, the _sea _— it was no wonder Hades had been bitter for so many eons.) This pain was cutting, it was the most raw form of fear, of emptiness, of hopelessness. It drove all rational thought out of his mind. There was only one thing he was sure of, that he'd been sure of all this time.

Annabeth. The faint, almost invisible sheen of her blonde hair in the gloom. Her hand in his, cold, clammy, her grip excruciatingly weak, but it might as well have been an energy well. It gave him strength. That hand in his was the only thing he could possibly focus on — he was with her. Nothing else mattered. This was as good as he could've hoped for.

_How ironic, _a snide part of him that seemed to be spluttering out its last words, said. _That you're falling straight through hell, and this is what goes through your head. _

There was no energy to respond, there was just enough to keep breathing. In and out, in and out. More black, frigid air filled his lungs, drying them out. _Keep breathing_, he told himself. _And keep holding on. _

* * *

And he did hold on, for eternities until he hit the hard surface of a water body, a bone—shattering impact that would've killed him, but Percy embraced the water and took ownership of it, bending it around them to cushion the fall. _Air bubbles cushion a fall, _he thought, employing his survival instincts. Over the churning and splash, there was no cry of shock or fear from either of them. He tightened his hold, pushing his last energy into the hand, ignoring the pain. The water wasn't still, it was fast-flowing, and it wasn't unfriendly water either — just normal, sub-zero freshwater. Willing the currents to sweep them gently ashore, Percy braced himself for the landing, and they collapsed beside the river — holding on, but barely. For a few moments — or was it a few hours, he lay still, just breathing, calming himself and letting the water ventilate to remove the suffocating sensation. He couldn't see, but he could sense Annabeth lying motionless, just next to him, on the craggy floor that resembled moon rock.

She stirred, which came to him as a shock. He realized she was stretching out her other hand to him, and his eyes followed her. She was holding two cubes in her palm — ambrosia squares.

It was as though he'd been recharged — the combination of compressed, blue chocolate chip cookies, and the healing powers of the godly food. One hand fumbled for the pen, and uncapped the sword. A faint glow emanated from the bronze blade. His eyes could focus again. He didn't have to remind himself to breathe, although he could hear his breath, and it was shallow and came in short gasps. He flexed his fingers experimentally; all his joints were mobile, but the skin was dry as leather. His back hurt, very badly as far as he could tell — but Annabeth couldn't have landed much better, and her leg had already been incapacitated.

"I didn't know that they had rivers in Tartarus," was all he could say.

Annabeth coughed twice. "Cocytus. The origin of all water," she said, and her voice was thin like an old woman's, small like a little girl's. "All rivers flow through the chasm of Tartarus."

It was a while before either of them spoke again. "Well, we're alive," Annabeth said, her voice full of false bravado.

"In Tartarus. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

She moved closer, not responding. Each movement took effort.

"Nico and the others — they'll be on there way here right now, right? You told him to meet us on the other side," she said. "Tartarus — I've studied this place for ages. I think I can navigate. But I'm not sure if my knowledge is enough. Nobody knows much about this place."

Percy squeezed her hand. "We'll find our way out. First, we've got to survive."

Slowly, they both sat up and blinked, adjusting to the dark. It wasn't all dark, Percy realized. Green flames flickered in the distance, not too far away. It reminded him slightly of the Hades cabin, back at camp. Against the wall, hulking shadows were rising and falling. He couldn't hear much from that direction, just the sound of fast—flowing water, and air, an empty echo in the endless cavern. On the wall across from them, there were a few haphazardly scribbled signs, written in Ancient Greek.

"PUNISHMENT — 200 MILES" one barely legible sign read. The engraving and bezels on the frame of the chrome had long since been leveled out. "ASPHODEL — 500 MILES". With her leg, Annabeth wasn't moving hundreds of miles in any direction. There was a third sign, circular, and hanging precariously by a single delicate filigree from the second. Percy reached forward to dust off the grime and get a better reading, but his fingers slipped and contacted with the black cavern wall. Instantly, he knew that something was wrong. The stuff he'd contacted wasn't solid — it was viscous black slime that slid like vines over his fingers without losing surface tension. His mind still unbearably hazy, Percy tried to wipe the stuff off on the signboard, but it was creeping up his arm now, and stretching across his chest. From her position at the opposite end of the tunnel, Annabeth croaked, "Is everything alright there?"

Fear seized his heart like a vice. Sweat, pure terror, beaded on his forehead. He scraped his hand desperately against the wooden sign, and the panic only heightened as the vine began winding around his neck. The world became a blur. His other hand scrabbled furiously at the plasticky goop, and the vile stuff just continued spreading on his other forearm. His sword was all the way across the cavern, out of reach. Then he heard it. A quiet voice, practically a whisper, but a powerful one. _The water. _

He ran towards the stream, and extended his hand along the bank. Calm swept over him, and the water crept up his arm, loosening the vines and dissolving his bonds. The black slime slid down into the stream and was carried away by the gentle current. Still, he was traumatized. Had all his capability for rational thought been eradicated?

"It's nothing," Percy said, turning around. Inside, he was shaking. "I don't think we're going to get out of here by walking, though."

Annabeth was staring at the ground, and Percy realized what she was looking at — a collection of symbols carved into the craggy rock. "This is possibly the only place in Tartarus that isn't overrun by monsters," she said. "We should be exactly at the center of Tartarus. The Doors of Death, following logic, would be situated at the deepest end."

"We aren't moving there yet," Percy said. _Mrs O' Leary, _he thought. "You have to recover."

"We don't know how long that'll take," Annabeth said, looking at her ankle. "This sort of injury takes weeks to heal."

"You can't battle Gaea on one foot."

"Fine."

"Got any rations?" Percy asked, not hopeful. Annabeth rummaged about in her pack, and produced a few packets of crackers, some ambrosia, water, and matches. She shook her head.

"Not much."

Percy's heart fell, but he kept his face straight as he racked his brain for possibilities. "No worries," he said falsely. "I'll just ... go scout around."

**A/N: Abrupt, but what do you think?**


	2. JASON

_**JASON**_

Jason hadn't known either one of them for very long, but that didn't do anything to ease his guilt.

_What had he been doing, _he wondered. Running around aboard the ship, hoisting and pulling to save a _statue _when he should've been paying attention to what was actually happening to his friends below, on the spidersilk floor. Sure, they'd said that he couldn't have saved them if he tried. But saving people was what Jason did — it was all he could ever remember doing. No matter what, he should've tried.

The mourning didn't last long, at least outwardly. As the _Argo II _headed back across sea and sky to Long Island, NY, nobody mentioned Percy Jackson or Annabeth Chase. Leo was grimly focused on his steering of the ship, but Jason could tell he still blamed himself for what happened. With their crew two members short, the remaining members were working extra hard to keep the ship in one piece to reach Camp Half-Blood with the Athena Parthenos. Monster attacks were noticeably fewer, which was probably to be expected given the reduced number of demigods on board.

With Percy gone, it was clear now that the others looked to him for leadership. This was something he was used to, but that didn't necessarily mean he liked it.

Piper was subdued too. She and Jason didn't exchange much conversation that day when it all happened, till the next evening after dinner. She and Jason were the only ones left in the dining hall, and she abruptly voiced out a thought. "Why do you think Gaea wanted Percy and Annabeth, in particular, as sacrifices?"

Jason was uneasy. As of late, it was almost as though Percy and Annabeth had become a taboo subject. "I guess it's because they're powerful," he said carefully. "Maybe she wants them out of the way, or maybe they'll help her reform quicker?"

"You're powerful too," argued Piper. "And if she wants powerful demigods for sacrifice, why wouldn't she pick, say, Hazel? She's the daughter of one of the most powerful gods. And it seems to make more sense to pick one Greek and one Roman demigod."

"Nico said Percy was more powerful," Jason said. That comment had been bothering him, but recently he hadn't dwelled too much upon it. There were a thousand more pressing issues to dwell upon. "And besides, Hazel hasn't had much time to develop her powers yet." But he had no answer to Piper's last comment. It _did _make more sense to have one of each.

He sighed. "I've no idea, what's your theory?"

"I think there's something about their bond," Piper said, her voice quiet. "Gaea knows that neither will willingly live on without the other. Maybe they'll be given a choice, or maybe one of them has to sacrifice themselves willingly, either way I'm sure it's that. I _know _it."

Her answer surprised him. He'd never considered anything of the sort, but when Piper said she knew it, he believed. He'd learnt over time to trust Piper's intuition, and that she'd be the expert on all things related to emotional bonds - especially the type Percy and Annabeth had. Still, he couldn't comprehend the expression on Piper's face. Why did she look so downcast?

"That could be true," he said, putting in extra effort to make his tone agreeable. "There's something different about sacrificing love, just like sacrificing the innocent. It's written all over the myths." Jason picked at the remains of the fruit on his plate, and glanced up at the clock on the far wall. It was seven-fifty-five - almost time for his watch. Nowadays, Jason's watch was from eight till ten pm, and again in the day from ten to six.

Piper just continued staring despondently at the candelabra, and Jason felt prompted to say something comforting. But how would he do that when he didn't even know what was wrong?

"They'll be okay," he tried. "Gaea's nowhere near a match for them."

In spite of herself, Piper laughed. Jason congratulated himself, but she didn't show any signs of permanently cheering up.

"Tell me what's bothering you," he said.

Piper didn't respond for a while. "Nothing," she said at last. "I guess ... it sounds irrational, but I kind of envy them sometimes."

Jason felt completely taken aback. "Why? You envy the fact that they're Gaea's prime targets, and they're currently falling through the depths of the darkest abyss in the world?" The words were out before he could stop himself.

"No," Piper muttered. "Forget I said anything."

"I hope you aren't serious," Jason said. He felt slightly concerned now.

"It's nothing," Piper said slightly more brusquely, and she stood up to leave the room, in her haste leaving Katoptris on the dining table next to her plate. It wasn't like her to be curt, at any point in time. Jason knew he'd just messed up — majorly, but what exactly was Piper thinking? He definitely liked Percy and Annabeth, and sometimes he wished he could have Percy's control over the sea just as he had over ozone, but nobody in their right minds could possibly envy them at a time like this.

He picked up Katoptris and exited the room, heading for the hull of the ship. Leo was still there, staring straight ahead, his eyes not really seeing. "Hey," Jason said. "Tired?"

"You could say that," Leo returned. He didn't make any move to leave, but he did glance over at Jason, the joints in his neck cracking from stiffness. "Ouch. That's better. Well, we're almost clear over the Atlantic, you should be able to see us approaching the Statue of Liberty over there on the starboard side pretty soon. Hey, what're you doing with Piper's knife?"

Jason handed it to him. "Go take a break, man. You need it. Here, please pass this back to Pipes."

"I can't _take a break_," Leo said incredulously, as though the very notion was preposterous. "Who's going to drive the ship? Who's going to keep us going in the right direction?" He yawned hugely. "Besides, we're almost there," he barely managed to get out.

"And we'll need you rested when we face the Legion at Camp Half-Blood," Jason reminded. "Go get some sleep, now. I'll take over.

"Thanks." Leo relinquished control of the wheel without a second word, clapped Jason on the back, and headed back to the cabins. Jason watched him go, slightly amused, then turned his attention back to the wheel. The sky was almost dark by then, and he could see the immense canvas of stars and crescent moon with astounding clarity. He could sense that the sky was clear. No monsters'd be attacking them within the next five seconds.

A random thought sprung to his mind — he wished he could call Piper out on deck with him, just to stargaze and enjoy each other's company. Instantly, though, he shot the thought down. Piper needed rest. He needed to remain vigilant and keep the ship safe.

* * *

Jason was awoken by the loud, persistent blaring of the _Argo II_'s horn. His head still ached, and his limbs were still weary — ten hours of watch a day was no joke — but he forced himself to sit straight up and get out of bed. He strapped his armor on as quickly as he could, took the golden _gladius _that hung by his bedpost, and rushed out to deck.

The sky was gray and the air was cold, stormclouds swirling dangerously low and moving too fast. Nico, Hazel, Frank and Piper were already standing about in their various states of battle-readiness, every one quiet and tense. The ship was slowly landing. Even Coach Hedge, normally loud and brash, was steering the descent in somber silence. Ahead, Half-Blood Hill was still deserted and barren,

Leo rushed towards them from the other side of the deck. "I've armed the ballistae," he said. "Though it doesn't seem like anything's in sight yet."

Jason scrutinized the horizon carefully, looking out for the tell-tale Roman eagles. Nothing.

"Land quickly," he instructed. "We've got to alert the campers."

The _Argo II _descended smoothly and landed with barely a bump on the crest of the hill, and it seemed like someone had spotted them as a greeting party had arrived nearby — a buff-looking girl with big callused hands, Nyssa, and the deputy counselor for Athena, Malcolm. None of the others really wanted to go down and deliver the bad news, so Jason was first off the ship with the others right behind. "Where's Annabeth?" Malcolm demanded. Nobody paid any attention to the huge statue right behind them.

"About that ..." Jason began. Malcolm's resigned expression showed that his worst fears had been realized. "And Percy?" The buff girl asked, looking horrified.

"They're not here right now, but they're alive," said Nico. "But at this point, we have something else to worry about. Where's Chiron?" The urgency in his tone was apparent, and the two campers immediately turned around and started walking up the hill without another word. Nothing was asked about Percy and Annabeth, much to Jason's relief, and he followed closely while keeping an eye on the sky.

* * *

"So Percy and Annabeth are now in Tartarus, and Camp Jupiter is going to be marching on us any second now," Jason surmised. Chiron was in centaur form, his bow and arrow already slung over his shoulder.

"Nyssa, Malcolm, alert all the campers at once and call a convention of the war council," Chiron said. "We must do all we can to prevent a battle — it is a surefire way of getting us destroyed — but if it comes to it, Camp Half-Blood cannot go down without a fight."

Back in Rome, there'd be formal arrangements for a war council — all members of the Senate gathered in the house, to decide and strategize and delegate. Everyone would have to wear those drapey togas which Jason privately hated, and be authorized by Terminus to gain entry. It wasn't remotely like the situation Jason found himself in a minute later, seated around an oval table with the other head counsellors with Cheez Whiz and ping pong balls rolling around in the center of the table. The Stolls were there, and so was Will Solace, Katie Gardner, Clovis, Butch, the other counselors, the deputy counselors for the cabins with quest member-counselors, and all of the quest members. Nico sat to Jason's right, mostly recovered but still weak. "I won't be summoning any armies to help us within the next hour," he said.

There was one clear similarity between the Roman and Greek war councils — propensity for disagreements to arise. Chiron outlined the plan, and instantly the protests came. "The Romans can't be talked around. Isn't it obvious by now?" Clarisse asked rudely. She looked pretty ticked off. "If we try for diplomacy, we'll be wiped out. I say we rise to attack first."

"Well, they had reason to disbelieve us," Jason defended. It felt weird, not knowing whether he was arguing for or against himself. "Leo blew up New Rome."

"He was possessed by an eidolon," Hazel cut in indignantly. "It wasn't his fault." Leo looked slightly comforted, over his generally miserable expression. Most of the counselors looked surprised that she'd said anything, and indeed she was the youngest person at the table. Prior to her speaking up, nobody'd been particularly keen to address her directly. Most of them seemed freaked that there was yet another child of the Underworld with them.

"Let's face it, punk, they're never going to trust us," Clarisse said. "What do you expect to happen? We calmly call them in for a talk, and they just agree like that?"

"We have the Athena Parthenos," interjected Piper. Chiron quickly took over. "Clarisse, there is a bigger situation at hand. The war against the giants, and Gaea. If we don't at least _try _to co-operate, civilization as we know it would probably be finished."

"Heard _that _too many times already," Clarisse muttered under her breath.

"We have a month at most to prepare for the final stand with the giants and Gaea," Piper said. "We'll need to bring the Parthenos to Greece, and we need the alliance. We're dead otherwise. Hera said so." From Jason's sudden agreeable, persuaded feelings, he could tell she was putting effort into her words.

Jason felt the need to cut in. "Hate to say it, but if you attack, you'll be outnumbered. Especially if Octavian's called for reinforcements. The legion's got far more people than this camp."

"Where _are _Percy and Annabeth exactly, anyway?" one of the Stolls asked. Jason still hadn't managed to distinguish them. "All you've told us so far is that they're alive but somewhere else. And what's the statue got to do with anything? I thought this was supposed to be a rescue mission. Now we're two very useful campers short, and have no alliance. Instead, we've got some Romans, him" — he cast a glance at Nico — "and a statue." Nico looked kind of offended.

"That's the Athena Parthenos, idiot," Malcolm snapped. "Ring any bells? The symbol of Athena? The cause of the Roman-Greek feud, that's been stolen for millennia and never retrieved? It's only the single most powerful manifestation of Athena's power that's ever existed."

"Okay," the Stoll said impatiently. "Great. Good that we've got it. But where's Percy and Annabeth?"

Everyone was quiet, even Chiron. Jason glanced at Nico, but Nico was looking to him. Sheepishly, Nico turned to Hazel on his other side, but Hazel was staring at him too. It seemed that Nico finally realized everyone was staring at him, because he sighed. "They're in Tartarus."

Everyone at the table seemed to draw breath collectively. "You're serious?" Katie Gardner asked, as though hoping he was joking. Nico nodded, and instantly everyone began talking in raised voices. _How did it happen? How are they getting out? How could you let it happen? How could they possibly be alive? _Jason didn't have answers to any but the first.

Chiron called for quiet, and the chatter died down, the atmosphere now tense and icy. "It's possible to survive Tartarus," was all Nico could say. "I did."

"Barely," added Leo. Jason shot him a glare.

"We will discuss saving them if we're alive after this invasion," Chiron said. "We cannot dally anymore. Counselors, prepare all the campers and assemble at the border. Hephaestus cabin, arm the ballistae and cannons. I will lead the diplomatic party out front."

The angry girl, Clarisse, looked like she wanted to say some more, but she reluctantly filed out of the room with the other counselors. Was he seeing things, or did one of the Stolls just attach something to the back of her armor? "Jason, Piper, Nico, Hazel, Frank, come with me," Chiron ordered, effectively summoning all the quest members except Leo.

Jason didn't feel like he'd be of any use in terms of diplomacy — he was a warrior, not a talker. As the most senior Roman camper present, though, he knew he'd have to go. Knowing the Roman campers better than anyone else there, he wished he could reassure them with his faith in the Legion, but he couldn't. He didn't have the confidence that they'd listen, especially with Octavian in their lead. He voiced out this thought.

"We have to try," Piper told him. She was right.

Chiron laid out the sequence of events. Jason and Piper would be the front line negotiators. Camp Half-Blood would raise the flag of truce, which hopefully would stop the Romans from attacking them immediately, giving Jason and Piper time to talk things out with the opposing "diplomats" — presumably Reyna and Octavian. Jason wasn't too sure if he and Piper negotiating with Reyna together was such a great idea, but he didn't protest. The rest of the group would stay behind, as support. If it came to aggression, the first aim would be to capture Octavian as a hostage. That was Jason's proposal. If Octavian was held hostage, he wouldn't be so keen to rile up the Romans' invasion, Jason reasoned, which may eventually lead to the Romans' surrender.

If they were lucky, which they often weren't.

The diplomatic group stood on the crest of Half-Blood Hill, just within the property line. The Athena Parthenos had been shifted to within the camp boundaries, but nearby such that the Romans could see it. Jason hoped they'd see it as a symbol of peace rather than as a declaration of war. Yards away, Peleus the copper dragon was curled around Thalia's pine, awake but breathing heavily, his nostrils smoking. Campers were already assembling behind them, decked out in full battle armor, bearing shields, lances, swords, arrows, knives and a heap of deadly-looking weapons next to the Hephaestus campers. Someone threw a giant blanket over the weapons, as though thinking it would help with the diplomatic image. Most were tense, spread out in battle formation. A few people didn't seem to be fully awake yet. The clouds rolled over the valley and thunder rumbled.

In the distance, a familiar flying chariot pulled by pegasi was growing larger, flanked by four giant eagles bearing Roman legionnaires. More eagles swiftly followed, and more, and more.

"Stand guard," someone yelled to the campers and then everyone was silent, waiting for the invaders to arrive.

**A/N: How was it? Please feedback! I love feedback.**


	3. JASON II

"Halt before the flag of truce!" Reyna commanded in a clear, directive tone. Scipio, her pegasus, reared to a sharp halt across the property line, wings flailing. The first row of flanking eagles swooped down to a landing, depositing the five campers alongside her — five centurions of the five legions. Jason caught Dakota's eye and tried to hold it, but Dakota refused to look directly at him. The moment the Romans landed, it seemed that they'd noticed the Parthenos. The front line didn't react, but as more legionnaires landed, row after row, whispers began running up and down their lines. They were caught off guard, maybe even confused as to what it meant. Jason hoped this was the best reaction.

Reyna dismounted and closed the space, dressed in full Roman armor and wielding her sword. Her expression was hard, without the slightest trace of mercy, and that didn't change when she narrowed in on the enemy's delegates — Piper and Jason.

"This is a trap," a voice came from the far left. Jason didn't have to look to guess who it'd be. "They torch New Rome, and _then_ they call a truce? They've even recaptured the statue of the Athena Parthenos. I don't see any further room for discussion here. Lines, attack now!"

"For Rome!" Someone bellowed. Others echoed them, and the lines of the army locked shields, forming a shield wall, but remained hesitant, not quite prepared to directly disobey the praetor's command. Eyes flicked nervously upwards to Athena's stone, harsh face.

"We _will _attack, Octavian, that much is obvious," Reyna snapped. "Someone will pay for the damage and deceit. But first, let's hear what they have to say. We must respect the rules of battle, must we not?"

She stepped forward, and Jason held his breath. For a second, he'd hoped that the property line would keep the Romans out. Then he remembered Frank, and Hazel, and Nico, all of whom had entered without difficulty. Reyna crossed the property line, and a collective hush fell upon the campers. The other centurions stepped forth to join her.

"We cannot discuss with this one," Octavian ruled, looking directly at Piper. "There can be no fair council with one of Venus' sirens. Take her away."

Chiron stepped to say something, but already the Romans — the second and third centurions — had taken Piper and held her hands forcefully behind her back, gagging her mouth. Instantly, a wave of anger swept over Jason, and he instinctively drew his sword. "Let go of her," he said. "We're under a flag of truce."

Piper struggled madly, but there were two much stronger legionnaires holding her fast. Octavian smiled. "Not until we proceed with the _discussions _your camp so desires, _graceus_."

Thunder rumbled ahead. With great difficulty, Jason prevented himself from lunging at the creep's throat. He breathed deeply, and turned around. "Frank, please."

Nervous and jittery, Frank stumbled forwards, almost tripping, to general laughter from the Romans. The laughter intensified when they realized that Frank's centurion badge was still pinned to his shirt.

Only Reyna seemed to feel a hint of pity, staring at Frank's badge and lapels. Jason kept his eyes on Piper, who had slackened her stance and had given up fighting her bonds. She was unarmed. If their diplomatic efforts failed, she'd be dead meat in less than two seconds.

In other words, it was do or die. Jason cleared his throat uneasily and tried to think of how to begin. "So, the attack on Camp Jupiter happened only because our friend Leo Valdez was possessed by an _eidolon_, one of Gaea's servants. Gaea is the real enemy. By destroying each other, we're finished. We can't let her win."

Some people began snickering. "Yes, so this is what they will have us believe," Octavian said smoothly. "Of course, it wouldn't harm for the Greeks to take action discreetly while we walk straight into their little peace-trap. How convenient, since no one can prove that he _wasn't _possessed by the _eidolons_. If he was, why is he no longer?"

"Piper talked them out of it," Frank said heatedly. More people laughed, and Octavian's expression was theatrically incredulous. Reyna, Dakota and one or two of the other centurions were quiet. Some of the legionnaires, however, were getting impatient. Jason could read it in their faces — they'd come to deliver retribution, they wanted to see a battle — not a slow debate.

"And who will vouch for this?" Octavian asked. "Aside from their friends, who have already been deemed traitorous?"

"I will," said a voice from the other side of the hill. Everyone stopped and turned around, to see a figure walking towards them in a dim halo of light. Although it was impossible to see his or her face from this distance, Jason immediately knew who it was. The same expression of shock was reflected on a hundred faces.

"Lord Bacchus, we are honoured," Reyna said immediately. Bacchus raised an eyebrow derisively.

"Is that so? None of you are kneeling."

Jason got down on his knees, along with everyone else from both sides of the divide. As Bacchus walked down the divide, Jason could see his form flickering between two people — one taller, leaner, dressed in armor with a pinecone staff, the other shorter, pudgier, with a floral Hawaiian shirt and no staff. He guessed that he was witnessing the god alternating between his Greek and Roman forms. Each time his form changed, the air around him crackled with manic energy.

"You may rise," Bacchus said dismissively, waving his hand and heading towards the area near Chiron. For the first time, Jason could see whom Percy termed "Mr D" clearly and solidly. He was plump, with a slight pot belly, a ruddy face and a head of curly black hair. It occurred to Jason that he looked like a fifty-year-old Dakota gone to seed.

"So, how did this happen?" Dionysus said casually, sitting down on a foldable chair that a nervous faun, no — satyr, had hurriedly run and fetched for him. More satyrs ran up with a fold-out table lined with red picnic cloth, a platter of cheese and crackers, and a diet Coke. He popped open the Coke, glanced up at Chiron, then at the other campers. "Well, don't stand there, answer me! Activities Director?"

Jason took the plunge. "Erm, well, before we met you in Kansas, then Rome, we were supposed to be on a peaceful mission to unite the Greek and Roman camps. But, ah, Leo here got possessed by one of Gaea's minions and he fired on the Roman camp, and so here we are."

"Ah. Juniper Grover, is it not? I vaguely remember seeing you before." Dionysus' form flickered again uncertainly, settling on Bacchus. The Diet Coke changed into a Diet Pepsi. It was disconcerting, especially since every time his form flickered the people near him started looking drowsy.

"He needs to speak to one of our side," someone complained.

"No, his Greek form won't have any recollections," Jason cut the interrupter off. He glanced at Piper, who did her best to look reassuring despite being bound and gagged. "Lord Bacchus, we're the heroes who sacrificed the trireme to you. You helped us to defeat Ephialtes and Otis in Rome. Juno wanted to unite the Roman and Greek heroes to fight in the war against Gaea by doing an exchange of leaders. However, Gaea tried to sow the seeds of discord. And if you don't help us to reason with the leaders" — Jason had a hard time getting the words out — "of Camp Jupiter, we, and the gods, will lose."

"I see." Bacchus sat up straighter (well, much straighter than Dionysus) and focused on Jason.

"With all due respect, Lord Bacchus," Octavian interrupted. "How would you vouch for their honesty if you're unaware of the proceedings?"

Bacchus stared at Octavian, gaze steely. "I am not a fool, child," he said. "I can tell when I am being lied to, just like your praetor's ... pets."

Aurum and Argentum bared their fangs and crouched.

"Well, then, do you agree to this — er — agreement?" Bacchus asked in his best "severe" tone. He addressed Reyna only. "You have seen that your 'enemies' do not lie. The question is, will Rome accept this truth? Or will it blindly seek revenge, ignoring what's best for it?"

The Romans were silent. Reyna's expression was as smooth as ever, but Jason could see that she was under extreme mental stress — torn between what was right, and the pride of Rome. Pride had always been Rome's fatal flaw.

"The recapturing of the Parthenos is not a declaration of war," Jason said as reasonably as he could, this time addressing all of the Romans. "It is an attempt to restore the peace. And if you cannot accept this, don't forget that we can harness its power. Are you prepared to lose your numbers, to deplete your ranks?"

He looked at Reyna now, trying to gauge her expression. She seemed to relent; seemed to have made a decision. He waited for the hammer to fall with bated breath.

"I am deeply sorry, Lord Bacchus," Reyna finally said. "But Rome must be avenged." She glanced back at her troops, who seemed to be drawing energy from her words alone. Then she looked back at Jason, and he thought he saw a hint of regret? Sadness? "We cannot let this debt go unrepaid."

"So this is how you will face it," Bacchus said coldly. "I am not able to further intervene, but Juno and Venus will not be pleased to hear how their time has been wasted."

He stood up, drawing his cloak around him, banged his pinecone staff against the floor once, and then he was gone in a shimmer of purple, leaving only the smell of grapes lingering behind.

In the Romans' grasp, Piper's eyes were fearful.

"You cannot do this, Reyna," Jason said flatly. "You cannot be so stupid."

"You know nothing about leading an army, Jason Grace," Reyna hissed, stepping closer. "You never did take real ownership of Rome."

"That's what you really think? Well, _I _think that _you _put your pride too high on your list of priorities."

"You're becoming just like a Greek," Reyna said contemptuously. "Too weak to conquer, to frivolous to deal."

"Meaningless aggression is not what Rome's about, and you know it very well."

It was only then did he realize that he was standing _right _in front of Reyna — close enough to see the sweat beading on her forehead, close enough to see the white knuckles that grasped her sword hilt as though her life depended upon it. Close enough to see the fear in her dark eyes. She was nervous, and very much so. She regretted being in this position. She didn't want a fight any more than he did.

Hesitantly, he stepped back, keeping an eye on the guys holding Piper.

"Fine, then," Jason said. "Let's resolve this with minimal damage. A one-on-one gladiator fight. Me versus whoever wants to challenge. If you win, you advance. If I win, you retreat."

Reyna looked briefly behind her to her five centurions. Octavian was casually looking away, the other two were holding Piper, while Dakota and the other refused to meet her eyes.

"I will challenge," Reyna said at last, with resignation. She drew her sword and advanced. Immediately, Jason raised his shield, assuming a defensive stance.

Then Reyna lunged, stabbing straight for the gut. Jason swung out of the way and retaliated, letting his battle instincts take over. Reyna was quick on the mark, he had to say that much. She dodged and stabbed and whirled and fought like an Amazon, pressing him hard, never letting him past a wide ring of defense. Jason was just getting warmed up. He didn't want to pull the lightning hat-trick — he didn't want to injure her or anything, but she was making it hard. The only sound that could be heard for miles was the steady rumbling of thunder above and the clang of swords on armor.

He made a pass, but Reyna came up to meet it. Her brow was furrowed, and her concentration was tuned up to the fullest. He pressed against her sword with his shield, and electricity crackled down the shaft of her sword. She almost dropped her sword, but fought to keep it in her grasp, aiming for the chinks in his armor in short stabs. Jason defended calmly, using his sword to meet the strikes. It was Greek tactic he'd learned during training, those few months. As her strokes grew shallower, Jason slammed his shield down on her shield hand, forcing her to direct her attention there, then slashed. Reyna dropped her sword. He twisted downwards — another Greek tactic he'd picked up — on her shield hand, and her shield clattered to the ground. She stood before him, defenceless. He could see in her the staggering loss of defeat.

"So, he's picked up un-Roman fighting now," Octavian remarked from a side. Dakota looked semi-relieved. The shield wall bristled. It seemed that the fight had only served to anger them more.

"I suppose, though, we shouldn't have expected any less from a defector of Rome," Octavian continued. "Lines, advance!"

"We had an agreement!" Jason yelled.

"I don't recall anyone giving a solemn oath," Octavian said cheerfully. Jason seethed with rage.

"You take Reyna," he muttered to Frank.

"What?!"

Then the fight broke out. Hordes of Romans ran forwards, advancing in formation. Jason swiftly went for the centurions holding Piper hostage, taking them down in less than five blows and freeing her. "Run!" was all he said before he turned to check how Frank was holding up.

Frank was still in human form, fighting with a gladius — but rather uncomfortably. It wasn't his weapon of choice. He wasn't going to hold up long against Reyna, who was already pressing him backwards. Jason took right over, catching her blade on his hilt, and pushing Frank aside. Reyna's eyes narrowed and she fought back harder. As he channeled more effort into the fight, electricity began to crackle around them, charging the air with ozone. The campers who'd been standing around fighting turned their fights away, not wanting to get their hair singed.

"Give up, Reyna," Jason said through gritted teeth as he pressed her harder. A bolt of electricity shot right through his sword, forcing her to stumble backwards. "This isn't right."

"I've no choice," was all Reyna said. Jason fired another round of voltage through, pressing her further back. "You can still call it off," he said.

"Don't you get it? I can't." Reyna ducked to avoid another swing. Her moves were purely defensive now, and she was trying to minimize contact. In the distance, a cannon fired. The grass exploded with greenish fire. Campers and Romans alike shrieked as they dodged around the stuff. A few missiles rained down on the camp. Hephaestus' campers launched deactivators with the help of Apollo's campers, aiming to destroy the fireballs before they could fall onto the camp. Jason slashed and stabbed and moved through the chaos.

The battle was turning into a full-on assault. Although the Greeks had primed their defenses and were aiming to fire the eagles down instead of the Romans, more eagles just kept arriving. It seemed that the influx wasn't going to end anytime soon — the Romans had really summoned their backup. Fortunately, though, Jason didn't see any sign of, say, Hannibal, or any animals.

Reyna made another pass, and Jason's concentration almost slipped. Gritting his teeth, he sprung backwards to give himself space and swung. He'd battled Reyna countless times in training, but never during a real fight. He hadn't imagined that this day'd ever come.

Just then, the statue of the Parthenos glowed brilliantly with blinding white light like a supernova. Everywhere, swords stopped mid-swing and warriors turned to watch, fearful and amazed. The starburst grew steadily, and a million fuzzy grey balls of light seemed to simultaneously explode forth and rain down upon the battlefields. Some landed on the ground, turning the grass silver where it did. Most landed on campers — those from Camp Half-Blood, and enveloped them in a glowing halo of silver-grey light. To his surprise, Jason wasn't bypassed — the stuff swarmed around his head, and the silver mist cascaded like a curtain down to his ankles, clinging tightly to him. He realized his hands were shining with luminosity.

"The Blessing of Athena!" someone yelled. The clanging of metal on metal resumed, but this time Jason felt empowered, stronger. His sword arm seemed to have a life of its own. His movements were sure and fast, his mind racing ahead of his body, strategizing, pre-empting, calculating.

"Raise the eagle!" someone yelled. Was that Octavian? His voice sounded an octave higher than normal.

Dakota held it high. "Twelfth legion fulminata," he mumbled half-heartedly. Lightning spiralled out of the eagle standard in a thousand bolts, lighting up the dark valley, but all the Greek campers had gained momentary invincibility. "It's no use!" He cried.

Reyna, at least, seemed to realize that the battle was lost. Roman legionnaires outnumbered the enemy, but the Greeks couldn't be touched while under the blessing of Athena. More than enough Hephaestus and Apollo campers were being deployed to disarm the Roman artillery.

"Rome, RETREAT!" she bellowed.

"You can't be serious!" Someone yelled. Reyna took no notice. She slammed her shield as close to Jason's face as she could, and stood right in front of him. "This won't be the end, Jason," she said, and then she backed off, trusting him not to attack. A thousand eagles swooped in to pick up the campers and took right off, soaring across the sky in a trail like a long, golden dragon. None of the campers attacked the retreating Romans, which seemed to be something they already took for granted. Some didn't even bother guarding their backs as they ran. In the distance, Jason could already see the golden chariot disappearing over the horizon.

All around him, campers were doubled over, panting hard as the effects of Athena's blessing wore off. Jason hadn't realized earlier, but many of them were wounded. Medics — probably Apollo's children — were running around healing the injured campers, giving them refreshments, and tending to their wounds. Chiron, Piper, Leo, Hazel and Frank had already assembled to the right, and Jason ran up to join them. Their expressions were all solemn, much unlike those of the other campers who were in high spirits. Leo looked as though he was going to break down any minute.

"So, that turned out well," Jason said glumly.

"We've prolonged the inevitable," Chiron answered. "The camp's attempts were laudable, but I fear that we've only worsened the situation."

Nobody said a word. Finally Chiron slung his bow over a shoulder and stood straight. "We must assemble the head counsellors again to decide on our next course of action," he said. "We must prioritize — reconciliation with Camp Jupiter, or to invest our efforts in the bigger mission — to stop Gaea, and save our fellow campers." With that pronouncement, he left the group.

**A/N: Please review.**


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